Ice Cream and Sympathy
by sasha1600
Summary: Sequel to The Lesson.  Tony comforts Kate after Gibbs disciplines her, with a story about his own experience of their boss’s displeasure.  Warning:  spanking of adult.  Don’t like?  Don’t read.
1. Chapter 1

**Ice Cream and Sympathy**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them, I just play with them.

**Summary**: Sequel to The Lesson. Tony comforts Kate after Gibbs disciplines her, with a story about his own experience of their boss's displeasure. Warning: spanking of adult. Don't like? Don't read.

A/N: This is a sequel to my story The Lesson, in which Gibbs spanks Kate for disobeying his orders. You don't have to read that first for this to make sense, but I think it works better if you do.

**

* * *

**

**Warning: this story contains the non-sexual spanking of an adult. If you are not comfortable with that, click on that 'back' button now. You've been warned.**

* * *

Kate groaned with annoyance when her doorbell rang. She was stretched out on her bed, her face cradled in her arms. The painkiller that Ducky had given her had done its job, mostly, but had also made her rather groggy and she was wondering if going to sleep at 8pm on a Friday was too unreasonable. She was definitely _not_ in the mood for company.

She had just decided to ignore the door when the bell chimed again. And again. And again. The impatient, rapid stabbing at the buzzer was too much to ignore so she dragged herself upright, carefully resisting the instinct to roll over and sit up. Tugging the Notre Dame T-shirt that she'd stolen from an old boyfriend farther down over the flannel sleep-pants she was wearing, she padded barefoot to the door and opened it a crack, leaving the chain in place.

'C'mon, Kate, let me in.'

'Tony, what do you want?'

'I brought ice-cream. Let me in before it melts.'

'Not tonight, ok?' She started to shut the door.

'Kate. We really should talk. Trust me.'

Sighing deeply, Kate shut the door and removed the chain. Sure she was going to end up regretting it later, she let Tony in. He waved the pint of chocolate ice-cream at her and bee-lined for her kitchen, grabbing two bowls from a cabinet and liberating spoons from the draining board next to the sink. He joined her back in the living room and deposited everything on the low coffee table. Kate hovered uncertainly, not wanting to sit down but feeling awkward about standing up. Tony parked himself cross-legged on the floor between the couch and the table and tossed a throw-pillow onto the floor opposite him.

He started scooping ice-cream into the bowls while suggesting, 'Try kneeling. I always find it the most comfortable option for eating after one of Gibbs's reprimands.'

He smirked at her surprised expression.

'You mean, you've... I mean, he...'

Handing her a bowl of ice-cream, he gestured at the cushion and said, 'Kate, let me tell you a story.'


	2. Chapter 2

I'd been working at NCIS for about six months. We were investigating a murder/suicide at Parris Island, and it was the first time I'd had to stay on base during an investigation. It was really the first time I'd worked an investigation in a setting that _felt_ military. Up until then, there hadn't been a lot of difference from any of the police forces I'd worked on. Most of the naval personnel I'd had to deal with had non-combat jobs – doctors at Bethesda, JAG lawyers, assorted administrators, you know what I mean. And investigating the murder of an officer outside a civilian bar isn't that different from investigating the murder of a civilian. So, anyway, it was a new experience for me and I felt like I was playing catch-up and I _really_ felt like I didn't belong. I guess that made me feel a bit insecure, and I over-compensated by being a bit of a jerk.

We were questioning a Colonel to get background information. Or, rather, Gibbs was asking the questions, and I was taking notes. It was tricky, because I didn't always understand what they were talking about, and I had a feeling that Gibbs wouldn't like me interrupting every two minutes to ask for a translation of the Marine-ese they were using. And, of course, that just made me feel even more insecure.

The interview was winding down, and I decided to ask a couple of questions of my own.

'Colonel, didn't anybody notice that Emerson was having a hard time fitting in with the other recruits?'

'This isn't a damn kindergarten, Agent DiNozzo.'

'I realise that, Colonel. But if he was that unhappy, shouldn't somebody have done something?'

'Just what would you like us to do, Agent DiNozzo? Tuck him in with his teddy bear and...'

'Hey! Why don't you drop the tough-guy jarhead routine and...'

'Go wait in the car, DiNozzo.'

'C'mon, Boss...'

'GO. NOW.'

So I went and waited in the car while Gibbs said something I couldn't hear to the Colonel. Then Gibbs came over looking like he was going to rip my head off and, instead of getting in behind the wheel, he nearly pulled my door off its hinges and told me to stand up.

'As long as you work for me, you will _not_ use that kind of language and you _will_ show an appropriate level of respect. Is that clear?'

'Respect has to be earned. I don't even know that guy.'

'You respect the _uniform_ and the _rank_ even if you don't know the person in them. Hell, even if you think the person in them is a first-rate SOB.'

'So I can't go after a suspect if he's wearing a uniform? What rank does a murderer have to have before I'm not supposed to question his alibi?'

'You do your job. I don't care if a suspect is Admiral of the Fleet – you do what you have to to bring him down. But you do it without disparaging the military, you do it without insulting the witnesses for being in the military and, until you are sure you've got the right man, you damn well do it without acting like you're talking to some street thug in a back alley. Do. You. Understand?'

'Aye-aye, Sir. Do you want me to salute, too?'

At that point Gibbs smacked me on the back of the head.

'This is _not_ a joke, DiNozzo. If you want a future with NCIS, you'd better get your head around the Navy part. And if I _ever_ see another performance like that one back there, you're off my team. Got that?'

'Got it.'

'Get in the damn car.'

Gibbs still seemed pissed at me, but he didn't say anything more about it. We interviewed a few more witnesses, talked about the case over some _really_ bad food, and finally decided to call it a night around midnight.

The next morning, I was outside the guest accommodation where they'd put us, stretching for a run, when Gibbs stormed out of his room and ordered me into the car. I suggested that I should go and change, because I was wearing sweats and an old T-shirt and really wasn't dressed for investigating anything. But he told me I was fine and to get in the car.

About ten minutes later we pulled up near the beginning of the obstacle course. There were about two dozen recruits doing push-ups. Gibbs got out of the car and waved for me to follow him. He practically marched up to the guy with the whistle and clip-board.

'Gunny, if it's alright with you, Agent DiNozzo is going to be running the course with you this morning. I think it will give him just the insight he needs into how Marines do things.'

'Gibbs, c'mon! No way!'

'I see what you mean, Agent Gibbs. I'd be delighted to let your man join us.'

They exchanged one of those sadistic it's-going-to-be-fun-watching-this smiles that Gibbs has and the gunny told me to go warm up with the others. I stood my ground for a minute, telling Gibbs that he was being completely unreasonable, but he just told me that it was 'professional development' and if I didn't like how he trained his team, I should feel free to go join another one.

It was pure hell. I was ok with the running. The monkey-bar things were kinda fun at first – sort of reminded me of the playground at my elementary school. But the climbing and jumping and crawling on my elbows and knees were just too much for me and I was achy and exhausted and I really wanted to just take a break and the gunny would not stop yelling at me to move it, move it, move it. And then we were crawling through mud and I thought I was going to puke. And there were so many ropes to climb and swing from and go hand-over-hand across that my hands were rubbed raw. Finally, about three hours later, I was ready to just collapse and there was only one more obstacle to get over.

It was a big wooden wall, perfectly smooth. And we had to run at it and plant a foot against it and boost ourselves up high enough to grab the top, and then haul ourselves over it and jump down the other side. I made sure I was at the back of the line, so I could how the others did it and so I could catch my breath. They all made it on their first try, but I'm pretty sure they'd done it before.

I ran at the wall as hard as I could, tried to get a footing on it, and fell flat on my ass. I got up, shook myself off, and tried again. And fell flat on my ass again. The gunny was telling me to get up but I'd had enough. I got to my feet, told him I was done, and started to walk away.

And there Gibbs was, watching. I hung my head a bit, but kept walking off the course. And then he was right in my face, yelling at me, telling me to get my sorry ass over the wall. Before I even knew what was happening, I was back on the course, running at that damn wall with everything I had, and the whole time Gibbs was yelling. And then I felt the edge of the wall under my fingers and I grabbed on and somehow pulled myself up and basically fell over onto the other side. But I'd done it.

And suddenly I understood. The pain and the exhaustion and the adrenaline and the sheer instinct of following Gibbs's orders...the whole 'to hell and back' thing made sense for the first time. And I really got the way that doing something without thinking about it can get you through what needs to be done. After that, I found it much easier working around active military. I had a better understanding of what they did and why they did it. And I had a better appreciation of Gibbs's instincts. He knew exactly what I needed, when I didn't even recognise the problem much less the solution.

X X X

'Gibbs really made you run a Marine obstacle course?'

'Yup. I still haven't decided if he meant it as punishment for mouthing off at that Colonel, or if it was entirely a learning exercise.'

'Oh, it was punishment.'

'Yeah, I thought so.'

'Still, it's not as if he... spanked you.'

'I haven't finished yet.'


	3. Chapter 3

The investigation continued. There were a lot of recruits to interview, so we were there a couple of days. Anyway, the day after I'd done the obstacle course, Gibbs actually let me go off on my own for the first time since we'd got to the base. He gave me a list of recruits to interview, and told me to stay out of trouble.

The interviews were mainly pretty routine. More versions of the story we'd already been told. Emerson didn't fit in the rest of the guys, they made sure he knew that, he finally snapped, but instead of washing out of boot camp like most kids who don't fit in, he shot half a dozen other people and then himself. We had to find out if any of the way Emerson was treated was far enough outside the regs to be culpable, or if there were any signs he was about to go postal that got ignored.

Only one of the interviews turned up something useful. One of the other recruits, the only one who came close to being friendly with Emerson although the term 'friendly' had to be used pretty loosely, had just gotten a letter from him. It was a bit odd, mailing a letter to someone on the same base, and it showed that Emerson had planned his rampage at least long enough in advance to get the letter in the mail.

Anyway, the kid gave it to me unopened. I slit it open, making sure to wear gloves so Abby could check it for prints and such, and found a map inside. There was a big X marked on it, and a note that Emerson had hidden his diary there and he wanted his 'buddy' to retrieve it for him after the investigation was over and send it to his mom. I wondered briefly why the kid hadn't just mailed the diary home himself, but then realised that a map was small enough to just stick in the post-bag; a parcel big enough to contain a journal would have to be handed over in person and that would take more time. So the rampage wasn't planned all that long in advance, just a bit premeditated.

I should have taken the thing straight to Gibbs, but I was trying to impress him by showing that I could think for myself. So, when I'd finished the interviews he'd assigned me, I decided to go fetch the diary. The map was pretty straight forward, and used landmarks that I recognised after being on base for a few days.

It was only when I got close to the place Emerson had marked that I realised that it was in the free-fire zone – the big graveyard for worn-out equipment that the Corps uses for target practice with live munitions. I knew people were supposed to stay out of the entire area, but I also knew that live weapons training had been suspended because of the investigation. So I decided to go get the diary.

Only I didn't know that the base commander had decided that his base had been disrupted enough by Emerson's screw coming loose and had given the go-ahead to resume normal training. So there I was, getting the diary out from under the seat of an old car, and a bunch of recruits were trying to target it with some kind of rocket thingy. Fortunately the guy in charge had a good pair of binoculars and saw movement and stopped everything before they'd even finished loading the whatever-it-was.

Unfortunately, when he figured out that it was me out there, he went straight to Gibbs.

The first I knew of any of this was when Gibbs drove up in a jeep and ordered me to get in. I tried to hand over the diary, and started to tell him how I'd found out about it, but he cut me off.

'Did you see the signs?'

'Whaddaya mean, Boss?'

'I'm trying to figure out if you're unobservant or stupid, DiNozzo. Did you see the signs? The big, red signs that say "DANGER – LIVE-FIRE AREA – KEEP OUT"?'

'Uh, yeah, I saw them.'

'And you decided that didn't mean you?'

'I knew they'd suspended live weapons activity because of our investigation, so I didn't think it would be a problem. When I started following the map I didn't know I'd end up in that area, and once I got there I didn't want to walk all the way back to find you so I just went ahead and got the diary. It's not like they were actually going to _use_ it today.'

'The problem is, they _were_ going to use it today. They were about thirty seconds away from dropping a ton of explosives right on your head, DiNozzo!'

'Oh.'

'That's what you have to say? "Oh"?!'

'What do you want me say, Boss? I didn't think they were going to change their minds and go ahead with operations.'

'This is a military installation, DiNozzo. That means that when something is marked as dangerous, it is. You don't second guess. You don't make assumptions. You don't use your judgement. You let the people in charge tell you if, and when, you can proceed. That's what the chain of command is for.'

'Ok! I get it.'

By this point we were clear of the live-fire area and on the main road back towards the cluster of buildings where we were based. Gibbs pulled over at the side of the road and got out. Not sure what was going on, I did the same.

'When you are on a base, you will pay attention to signs, especially warning signs. You will follow the orders of everyone on base, unless they are actively impeding your investigation. If they are impeding your investigation, you will come to me first. The rules have to get broken sometimes, but until you have enough experience to know which rules you can break without getting yourself killed, you don't get to make that decision. You let me watch your six. And you answer to me when you do something stupid. Especially when you do something stupid and dangerous. Are we clear?'

'Clear, Boss.'

'Good. Now we just have to discuss your punishment.'

'Punishment?'

'You violated about a dozen regs with that little stunt, DiNozzo, and nearly got yourself killed in the process. You really think I should just pretend that never happened?'

'I guess not. So you're gonna write me up?'

'I don't like paper punishments, DiNozzo. Suspensions are pointless. Nobody ever learned anything from having to take time off. And written reprimands usually have more of an effect on your career than the offence warrants, and too long afterwards to be any good as a deterrent.'

'Ok... You gonna make me run the obstacle course again?'

'You're getting closer. If you'll accept some old-fashioned physical correction from me, we can skip the formal reprimand.'

I was actually speechless, and you know how much of a feat that is. I wasn't really sure what to expect. Physical correction could mean just about anything from having to run laps to Gibbs beating the crap out of me. I was pretty sure that, whatever he had in mind, it would be unpleasant. But I also knew that a note in my file when I'd only been there half a year would be a professional death-sentence, and he was offering me a way to avoid that. And I knew that I could trust Gibbs. Not just the way that I'd trusted my partners with my life when I was with the police. That was merely mutual self-interest. This was more... something.

Anyway, I met his eyes and nodded. He gave me a look like I'd just confirmed some suspicion that he'd had and nodded back. Then he started rummaging around in the back of the jeep and told me to bend over the hood.

On one level, I wasn't that surprised. It was a pretty obvious definition of physical correction, and it made more sense than him using me as a human punching-bag. But on another level, I was shocked that he'd actually do it. And it felt strange bending over the front of the jeep, waiting for him. But I did it.

He came around the front of the jeep carrying one of those leather tie-downs they use to hold heavy loads on the back of open vehicles. It was wider and thicker than a belt, but still flexible like one. I swear my heart stopped for a moment when I saw it, and my mouth went as dry as dust. I'll admit it. I was terrified.

But I didn't have a chance to react before he smacked me hard across the ass with it.

I yelped like a little girl and jolted upright. I'd never felt anything like it, and I'd had my share of spankings when I was a kid. I expected Gibbs to put me in some kind of Marine headlock, but he just stood there, waiting. And I realised that he was expecting me to bend over again and that he wasn't going to hold me down.

Somehow I forced myself to lean forward and take the next lash. It hurt even more than the first one and I screamed and again I half stood up. It was pure reflex. And again Gibbs just waited for me to get back into position.

It was like that every time he hit me. The pain was unbelievable and I was crying out with every stroke of the strap and gasping for breath and there were tears streaming down my face. It seemed to go on forever. My ass was on fire. And he made me keep bending over to take another one. That moment of submission, accepting Gibbs's discipline rather than giving in to my own overwhelming desire to tell him I'd had enough and not bend over again, was almost worse than the pain. But, for the first time in my life, I wasn't angry at the man whipping me, and I didn't think it wasn't fair.

He gave me a dozen lashes before walking away to put the strap back where he'd got it, leaving me sobbing against the hood. After a minute or so, I felt his hand on my shoulder. He didn't say anything, just let me know that he was there and everything was ok. Despite the pain, I felt protected. I eventually caught my breath and somehow got myself back into the jeep. Gibbs still didn't say a word, just drove us back and carried on with the investigation.

X X X

'Anyway, that was the first time Gibbs spanked me.'

'The first?'

'Oh, there have been many times since then, Katie. It's how Gibbs usually punishes me when I do something he thinks rates more than a head-slap.'

'And you don't think that's a problem?'

'It's better than a formal reprimand in my permanent record. It's over quickly. And Gibbs has never once made me feel like I was in danger, or given me more than I could handle. And when I'm really feeling guilty about something I've done, it can be.. I dunno... cleansing, I guess. I feel better afterwards, anyway.'

'Ok. But he let you choose.'

'Only the first time. And he was really just testing me.'

'But still. He had your consent. With me he just went Neanderthal.'

'Oh, c'mon, Kate. He didn't do anything you wouldn't have consented to if he'd made you choose between that and taking it to the Director. And it's a hell of a lot easier to take when you're being held down. He was going lightly on you by not making you stay in control.'

'What makes you think I'd have agreed to let him whip me?'

'Because you're smart enough to know that a few minutes of painful embarrassment are better than a permanent hit to your career.'

'Well, I don't know what I would have done if I'd been given a choice in the matter.'

'Then you should be grateful that Gibbs didn't give you the opportunity to be completely stupid.'

'Gee, thanks.'

'You know I'm right.'

'I'm too tired to know anything right now, Tony.'

'Ok. I'll let you get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning. And when you think about how you don't have to worry about how this is going to affect you from now on, you'll know I'm right.'

Kate struggled to her feet, shaking out the stiffness in her legs after kneeling for so long. She saw Tony to the door, thanked him for the ice-cream and for trying to make her feel better about how Gibbs had punished her, and locked the door behind him. She dropped the bowls into the kitchen sink and the empty carton into the trashcan, then got herself ready for bed and settled down on her stomach again. She remembered Gibbs's own words, that he had spanked her because he cared about her. Smiling to herself as she recalled what had happened next, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! Just to clarify - this isn't supposed to refer to any particular episode (if I intend one of my stories to play off of something that has actually happened on the show, I say so). It's just my imagination playing with Tony adapting to working with Gibbs (I imagine this taking place sometime before Ice Queen). _


End file.
